Say Uncle
by WeDon'tKnowEnoughToUnderstand
Summary: Today was not a happy day. Norway did not know what to think about it all.
1. Chapter 1

'**Say Uncle' By Vienna Teng.**

Everyone agrees it came too soon  
>It was only meant to be an interception<br>You kept fear of death in the back pocket of your jeans  
>In the palm of your hand, affection<p>

It came like a sudden gust of wind  
>Leaving them bewildered to ask how<br>I recall last time we met, you said we'd meet again  
>The irony is only bitter now<p>

These days everyone cries, "say uncle"  
>They want to touch your spirit lest it die<br>For this your sons and widow gather with us at the table  
>To form a healing circle for our new demise<br>These days everyone cries, "say uncle"  
>I retrieve the memories quickly as I can<br>Add them to the portrait we all draw in our minds  
>Your body gone, we shall keep the man<p>

I close my eyes and hope they do not fade  
>These remnants of a voice and a smile<br>Images of landscape, cloaked in forest green  
>Like your life unfolding mile by mile<br>A fierce embrace, a word of thanks  
>A cheerful whistle, and hours in a van<br>Somehow these pieces must bring back the man you were  
>Though the ocean claims your ashes on the sand<p>

These days everyone cries, "Say uncle"  
>They want to touch your spirit lest it die<br>For this your sons and widow gather with us at the table  
>To form a healing circle for our new demise<br>These days everyone cries, "say uncle"  
>I retrieve the memories quickly as I can<br>Add them to the portrait we all draw in our minds  
>Your body gone, we shall keep the man<p>

These days everyone cries, "Say uncle"  
>They want to touch your spirit lest it die<br>For this your sons and widow gather with us at the table  
>To form a healing circle for our new demise<br>These days everyone cries, "say uncle"  
>I retrieve the memories quickly as I can<br>Add them to the portrait we all draw in our minds  
>Your body gone, we shall keep the man<p>

Denmark walked forward in front of the mirror in an attempt to straighten his tie. He was only succeeding in making things worse. Norway decided to save him before he ripped the tie in frustration. Shaking his head a little he used his delicate fingers to correct his lovers' attire and smooth the suit jacket down over his shoulders. Denmark had always looked good in black. It contrasted nicely with his pale complexion. The usual goofy smile was absent- the only hint that something was wrong. Norway's eyes were red. It had come as a surprise to him to learn how much he could cry. He knew Denmark had cried but he only let out small soft sobs while Norway had simply wailed. He was engulfed in a pair of sweet smelling arms and he pushed his noise into Mathias' jacket. Today was going to be difficult. Both he and Denmark wore white ties, an old Swedish tradition in which the members of the immediate family would wear white ties instead of the usual black ones. They were staying in Sweden and Tino's house. Neils did not want to move from this comfortable embrace. It gave him some reassurance and a great deal of comfort.

There was a knock at the door and Norway hastily pushed the Dane away. He didn't like showing affection. Iceland stood in the doorway, white tie in hand looking embarrassed. Norway began to wonder if he was the only Nordic who could manage a simple tie as he went over to his brother and fixed it for him. He was proud of himself that he had managed to keep a steady hand.

The funeral service was held in a church and whenever they had to stand Norway hated to admit it but he had to lean against Mathias to prevent himself from falling to the floor. He could feel the Dane quivering in his jacket. Neils knew he was trying to hold in sobs, the Dane was too proud to cry in front of anyone else. So was Norway but he didn't have the strength or resilience to stop the tears struggling their way down his face. The sound of Tino's gentle sobs filled the entire church and each fresh bombardment of tears caused every nation on the sanctum to feel a pang at their hearts. He was cradling Sealand in his shaking arms. The boy was staring at his father's coffin with wide, horrified eyes leaking with tears. Norway wondered if he had come to terms with it yet. They sat down once more and Norway felt Iceland lean against him. Norway was glad that Denmark was there otherwise he would have fallen off the church pew. Also Denmark was not crying and for some reason that made Norway feel better. He couldn't stand anymore people crying. Sweden was dead and long gone. No one could bring him back. Iceland whispered in his ear; "Why did Uncle have to die?" Norway never knew why Iceland called Sweden and Denmark his Uncles but it didn't bother him, he was too preoccupied wanting Iceland to call him brother.

There was a small reception that he and Iceland had prepared back at Berwald's house. Some of the nations came to offer their condolences and for some light refreshments. It was quite sombre atmosphere but that was to be expected with the sobbing Nordic nations in the corner. Denmark was doing his best to entertain people and maintain a cheerful atmosphere. He was failing catastrophically. Norway used this time to lean against Finland, an arm around his shaking form and contemplating Sweden. He was never a very expressive man but he had always been kind and Norway had always seen him as a very gentle father. He was lost in memories which slipped into dreams and before he knew what was happening he was being tucked into a large bed with soft blankets. He was confused and almost got up before he felt Mathias' arms wrap themselves around his waist and he retired back into sleep. Finland would not sleep well that night, and Sealand would not sleep at all.

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><p>Please don't hate me. :'( This is a two-shot so there will be another chapter to this. So anyway please review and thank-you for reading. ^^ The song above is 'Say Uncle' by Vienna Teng off her album 'The Waking Hour' The next chapter is much, much longer than this one. Originally it was meant to be Denmark who died, but I couldn't bring myself to kill him...<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Omg omg…. So sorry haven't updated in like donkey's years… Writers block. Anyway this will be the last Vienna Teng one shot thing unless I get a request for a specific couple. (Well there may be another one shot with Belarus and Belgium but I don't know.) This one isn't edited or anything as I wanted to get it out quickly. Anyway sorry this took so long, but here you go. ^^

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><p>o0o<p>

"_Berwald!" he couldn't believe it. He never thought he would see him again. It couldn't be possible, it shouldn't be possible. "c'lm d'wn Tino 's on'y 'dre'm" That hurt. Why did he have to say it so heartlessly? So brutally, couldn't he just pretend for a moment that it was real and that he could lie back in his husband's arms? He could feel the tears coming. He thought again and again how unfair it all was. 'No', that was what he had kept repeating to himself, when he had discovered what had happened to Berwald. "It'll be 'k'y T'no." he felt strong arms around him soothing him. "No it won't" he mumbled into the soft flannel shirt. "y's it w'll" "How can it ever be alright Berwarld? I just want you back." The tears were sliding down his face now. This was the worst kind of dream. "J'st l't go Tino. 's all y'h've t' do. L't go." Tino didn't think he could ever let go. He would always remember Berwald. He would never let himself not think of him, and told the man just as much. "No T'no. F'rg't" Berwald would never give him commands so he knew that this must be important but forgetting was one thing he could never do. _

Morning hit him in the stomach like a professional boxer. He was going to be sick. Finland pushed Peter off his chest and ran to the bathroom. There was nothing to throw up, he hadn't eaten for days. He knew the others would make him eat and try to smile, but he couldn't. Sweden had the most beautiful smile when he managed to make his face muscles move. Finland couldn't bear the thought that he wouldn't see it again. He had no photographs and that just made his stomach twist even worse. There was nothing he could do, he just wanted to be alone but no one would let him be when he was this upset. There was only one thing he could decide to do, and that was to act happy. He had a quick shower and pulled on some fresh clothes. He looked in the mirror- his appearance was awful but he put a smile on his face. 'Happy, confident, excited, everything is fine' he repeated under his breath. He twirled around and bounced into the bedroom. Peter was sitting expectantly on the bed his eyes were red. "You haven't slept all night have you, Peter dear?" The small boy shook his head, slightly disorientated by his parent's change of behaviour. "Well if you sleep maybe you'll see Papa." He beamed at his son and tucked him back into the double bed placing a neat kiss on his forehead. Now all he needed was to convince everyone he was absolutely fine then maybe Denmark and the others would go out for a walk and take Sealand with them. Then he could be alone and he could breathe.

Breakfast, that's what he needed to do now. If he made a delicious breakfast then the others will think he is back to normal. What to make that they all like? That would be tricky. Pancakes! Yes pancakes, he would make those… Peter loved pancakes when they are all covered with sugar and blueberries. So he started to make a routine. Make the batter, cook the pancake lay it on a plate and do it again until someone came downstairs. The pile of pancakes was getting higher and higher and Finland was sure that if Denmark hadn't been there they never would get finished. He made little side dishes with fruit and sugar and chocolate and every sweet thing he could find in the cupboards. He looked at his lavish display- that should most certainly convince them. Now all he needed was them to come downstairs and eat it before it got cold.

No one was awake yet so he bounded up the stairs and shook Peter awake. "I made pancakes!" He yelled into his son's ear. "Help me wake your Uncles, yes?" All Peter could do was nod and he sprinted into Norway and Denmark's room. Tino went downstairs and made sure his breakfast table was still picturesque. He bounded around the kitchen sure that they would all love it. The weight didn't shift from his stomach as he rolled on the balls of his feet. Norway stepped cautiously into the kitchen gently pulling his brother along behind him. Denmark bounded in with a drowsy Sealand in his arms. "Er… Wow Fin… You really went all out, huh?" The Dane said… why didn't he look happy? That's what today was meant to be; happy, happy, happy, pretending Sweden wasn't gone. "Oh yes of course! I'll get the plates!" His voice was too happy and anyone else could have seen that he was scaring the other Nordics. "He pulled the stack out and placed each one down, "One for Denmark, Norway, Iceland, Peter, me and Ber-" he stopped and dropped the plate. He crumbled from the inside and sank to his knees trying to clear up the plate shards and not completely cracking. There was a small voice, which belonged to Denmark who whispered "Tino~" That did it. He sobbed and he sobbed over the broken plate that he had laid for the person who wasn't there. This isn't working he thought. I can't be happy without Berwald. He tried to keep himself dignified but it was becoming more and more impossible. He just couldn't keep himself upright anymore.

The sobbing continued and he didn't notice anything that was going on around him, he was only aware that he was cold but now he was warm. Something was heavy and there was a lot of noise.

He opened his eyes- being unaware that he had drifted off and realised he was in Mathias's arms. Neils was leaning on his back and Iceland sat at his feet. He was surrounded by his family but he couldn't see Peter. He shifted- nice as this was it wasn't comfortable- and tried to push himself out of Denmark's arms. He didn't succeed though, the man was too strong. It was distressing. He felt so much like Sweden, he almost smelled like him. It was too familiar and he struggled to get out of the iron tight grip. "Mathias, I think he wants you to let him go." Norway mumbled and prised the Dane's arms out of his grip. "But I like cuddling!" he chirped, but with a dead panned expression aimed in his direction he released Finland and scooped up Neils instead, despite the protests. Finland edged himself into the other corner of the sofa, away from the others and observed the scene in front of him. Peter was sitting, asleep, in Iceland's lap and they seemed to be watching a child's movie. Finland felt so alone. He had no one to hug him, to sit with. He decided to fling the blanket over his head and lean into the sofa cushions. He decided to sleep, who knows… perhaps he would see Berwald again?

However, his nights were dreamless and his days uneventful. He moved through the monotony of grief and bereavement in a haze. He watched his family look after him, talk to him and he always tried to smile as best as he could. They weren't buying it, that he was happy, and after a while he had given up trying to sell it. He shared his bed with Peter, not Berwald, built snowmen with just to the two of them, not all three. It was quickly approaching Christmas and Tino couldn't bring himself to do his sleigh ride. Denmark pressured him and pressured him and he had to give in. it wouldn't fly without him. So he sat in the back among the presents and buried his head. Denmark navigated and distributed the presents. He would make a good Father Christmas, Finland thought. Sweden wouldn't have, he was too serious. Denmark would be perfect. Finland liked and disliked the idea. The identity of Father Christmas was what set him apart now, that he didn't have Sweden to make him feel special.

Winter melted into spring and grew into summer. Summer fell into autumn which froze again to winter. The cycle went round and Denmark was Father Christmas once more. The snow melted again and spring sprung forwards. Tino had lost count of the days that Berwald had been gone. The previous year had been slow and it had been hellish, but finally he was alone. Iceland had left and gone back home accompanied by an unreadable Hong Kong last summer. Denmark and Norway had left last week not fully satisfied that Tino was able to look after himself but they were forced to leave by a too-happy Finland. It was when he was playing in the garden with his son that he noticed how much taller the boy seemed. His trousers came above his ankles and his shirt was almost the right size- Finland always bought clothes that were too big to save money.

With a pang Finland saw that Peter was beginning to resemble England more with each passing day. His eyebrows were becoming fluffier and his manner more brisk. He was still Peter though but he had been sure the boy did not possess such a large liking for tea before. He was England's little brother he supposed… but Finland didn't like it somehow. "Mama!" Sealand called out his name and ran over to him. He still called him 'Mama' even though he didn't have anyone to call 'Papa' anymore. "Yes, Peter?" he asked. "Wanna play football with me?" The boy grinned holding the spherical black and white ball in his arms. Tino wasn't a fan of footy but he agreed, trying to rid himself of the feelings of guilt he had for neglecting his son over the last year or so.

"Great! Those two trees can be the goalposts and you can be the goalkeeper."

"How am I meant to score then, silly?"

"Well there is only two of us playing so I thought we would do a penalty shootout." He grinned and placed the ball on the grass. "I try five times then we switch, whoever scores the most goals wins." Finland nodded. It was easy enough to understand. Sealand scored four out of five goals, obviously inheriting his talent (some-what) and passion of the game from England. Finland didn't fare so well but he was having fun. He kicked the ball and he nearly always missed so he only scored one, but they kept switching and he gradually scored more. It really was quite fun. "How about we both try to score and no one is the goalkeeper?" "Mama, that's silly, that would be way too easy." "Not if I try and stop you. Here you can aim for the trees and I'll try to score in between these flower pots." Sealand nodded, it sounded like fun. So for hours they tried to beat each other and Finland was the victim of quite a few tackles. None hurt though but both got covered in mud.

"Oh dear, I think we may have ruined the lawn." Finland muttered as he noticed the grass scraped away and revealing mud and dirt. "Who cares mama? Just plant more grass seed and it will grow back." "Don't be so flippant Peter." He didn't really care though, this was just too fun. Soon it became a regular thing. When there was no world meeting or any work stuff to do they would play football. It was a good distraction and it was fun. Finland began to get bored of the game though. Sealand, however, didn't want to stop playing, so to resolve the problem Finland began to invite England and France round to play football. They decided the garden was too small so they went to the park. Finland watched as England and Sealand battled to beat France. It was easy as the man wasn't keen on getting his 'super sexy self' dirty. With mud anyway. England decided it was pointless and wanted a real challenge so he rang the current world champion- Spain. That made the game much more interesting. Finland just giggled as England and Spain took the game to seriously while France was fussing over his clothing in goal. "FRANCIS GET BACK IN GOAL, estúpido!" Spain yelled as another ball went flying past the Frenchman's head. England laughed. "This is not fair England! I want Sealand in goal; you can have your idiotic Frenchman." "HEY who said he was MY idiotic Frenchman? AY?" Of course, that would be the one part the Brit focused on. "Well he IS your lover isn't he?" incomprehensible words spluttered forth and Sealand decided to avoid a fight and quickly switched goals with Francis. Finland started to get bored and wandered round the park, it was a nice day. He could hear the yells all the way through the trees. He giggled to himself and started to skip. He felt free for the first time in a while. He couldn't remember in that beautiful moment why he had been sad at all. He felt whole again.

And then he saw it; a tall well-built man with thin glasses and a blank expression. People were skirting round him, trying to avoid the terrifying aura he gave off. Finland was too used to that aura to be afraid though. He grinned and he grinned and he felt like he was going to burst. He yelled as loud as he could yell 'Berwald' and the man gave no jump of surprise or look of confusion but simply gave a small smile and opened his arms to the fin. The people in that part of the park stared in confusion and surprise as the small cheerful little man flung himself in the arms of the Swede. "Tell me you're real, Berwald. Tell me you're here!" The strong arms cradling him relaxed a little so he was face to face with Tino. "I'm h'r' T'no. I' t'ok y'u l'ng 'n'ugh t' f'rg't m' so I c'uld c'me b'ck" He mumbled. _(I'm here Tino. It took you long enough to forget me so I could come back.)_Tino had missed that voice, that peculiar way of speaking. "What do you mean, Berwald?" "J'st th't I w's t'ld I c'uld c'me ba'k wh'en y'u f'rg't m', d'n't r'ally un'rstand m'self bu' I a'n't comla'n'n'" _(Just that I was told I could come back when you forgot me, don't really understand myself but I ain't complaining.)_ Before Tino could say anything else he pulled him into a long deep kiss that was so new yet so familiar. Tino couldn't comprehend what had just happened, but hey, he was Father Christmas. Who was he to not believe in magic?

After their happy reunion Tino ran back to where the nations were playing football, with Sweden walking slowly behind. "PETER," he yelled. "Peter! I found Papa! I found Papa!" he was crying tears of joy as he brought the boy into a hug. They all looked like he was mad; none of them could see Berwald. He was still in the trees and hadn't managed to keep up with Tino. "Er Mama… I think perhaps you should lie down. You know Papa is gone forever." He looked sad. "No Peter I mean it look," he pointed to the man watching from a distance with a soft smile on his face. He was instantly recognisable and Spain, England and France were petrified in shock. Peter, however, had full use of his muscles. He flung himself at his father into those once again outstretched arms. Tino soon followed happy to be a family again. A full family, like it should be.

"Aww isn't that sweet Angleterre?" France wrapped an arm around the spluttering Arthur's waist. "Per'aps we should find our own petit nation, no?" "No. Dickwad." Arthur tried to push him away, he wasn't ready to look after another little nation after his experience with America. France dipped his head in understanding but still held on tight to Arthur and brought him into a kiss. "Ah well, you are good enough for me then." "Shut it. Frog." Arthur grumbled, embarrassed, while Spain stood watching the others with a big grin on his face.

"Papa, papa, papa." Sealand kept repeating it as much as he could, Berwald being here brought back all the feelings of loss and some new ones of gain. Finland watched Sweden as he hung onto his arm with that adorable smile on his face. It reminded him that he needed to take a photograph of that smile the second they got home. He never wanted to go a day without seeing it again.

o0o

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><p>Please Review ^^ It fuels me on to write more, and all feedback will be welcome. Anyway 'Say Uncle' belongs to Vienna Teng and as I have never mentioned it before Hetalia isn't mine, which is pretty obvious. Oh and 'footy' is British slang for 'football' in case it isn't self-explanatory. Thanks for reading ^^<p> 


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